


Reprise

by bigblueboxat221b



Category: Come From Away - Sankoff & Hein
Genre: Angst, Diane POV, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hotels, In Gander, Musicals, Separation Anxiety, Sharing a Room, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 04:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20147461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: When their plane can't take off - and all the others have left - Nick and Diane find themselves stuck in Gander with no idea when they will be able to leave - again. At least this time they're in a hotel, and their checked baggage has been allowed off. But will anything else change, now that they have a little extra time?





	Reprise

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to LizbetRx, who is probably the only person reading this. I can't express how grateful I am that you're reading these CFA stories. I'd be writing anyway, but at least I know someone will see them. <3
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not RPF  
While Nick and Diane in the musical are based on real people, this story is set strictly in the fictional representation of them in the musical, ‘Come From Away’. I haven’t done any research into their personal lives, and anything further than what is canon in the musical is completely made up, with the exception of some geographical details. This is not intended to represent the real life couple in any way, their thoughts, attitudes or actions. It’s just my brain saying, ‘what if?’, as it does to every story that resonates with me.

“Finally,” Diane murmured as they settled into their seats on the plane. She glanced at Nick. “Didn’t think I’d be so glad to get back on this plane. Not after Tuesday.”

As she heard herself lie, Diane felt a flush of guilt. She wasn’t glad to be back on the plane, exactly; it was too complicated to be a pleasant emotion. There was a sense of relief, but also a deep sadness she wasn’t really prepared for.

“I know what you mean,” Nick replied. He leaned closer and whispered, “I’m also quite pleased I’m not sitting with the drunk people.”

“They do sound like they might be ready to start again,” Diane said. Her heart was beating a little faster at the conspiratorial words. Having Nick beside her for the whole flight was going to be bittersweet. They would have each other’s company, but each moment would bring them closer to the inevitable separation.

“I’m surprised it’s taking so long,” Nick said. He craned his neck back to see, and Diane grabbed his arm, pulling him back down.

“They’ll see you!” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“I doubt they’ll notice,” Nick replied, smiling. His face was impossibly close, and for an interminable second, their eyes locked.

Just as Diane thought Nick might say something, or do something, the intercom crackled to life.

“Hi everyone,” the captain’s voice came through. Everything had been more relaxed, from the moment the passengers hugged the crew as they came aboard. A shared experience like they had been through broke down all the barriers, even down to the Captain’s address.

“This is Captain Bass speaking,” the captain continued. “I have some bad news, I’m afraid.” Diane’s heart clenched, and she glanced at Nick. “We’ve had some problems starting up number two engine. The mechanical crew have just finished inspecting it, and there’s a bunch of debris in there, probably from the broken up tarmac we’re parked on. It’s damaged parts of the engine, and it won’t be safe to operate until the parts are replaced. I’m sorry folks, but we won’t be going anywhere today.”

The cabin was completely silent as shock settled over the passengers. There were a few expletives, but they were disappointed rather than angry. Even the crew looked devastated. Diane felt tears well as the truth hit her. I’m staying here. For…I don’t know how long.

With Nick.

Dimly, a very unhelpful part of her brain recalled an article she’d read that claimed tears produced from different emotions had different chemical compositions. What would her tears now look like? She had no idea which was the dominant emotion in her right now. She was frustrated and angry, but there was a strong thread of relief as well, and the guilt it generated flowed alongside.

For a moment, it was all she could do not to break down entirely, but she felt Nick shift beside her, and his arm was settling across her shoulder. “We’ll be alright,” he said quietly.

His quiet confidence – and use of the plural pronoun – hit her heart. Yes, he might have meant ‘we’ as in the whole flight, but Diane preferred to believe he was thinking about the two of them. It was comforting to think of herself as part of a team instead of on her own in this.

Nodding, she leaned into him a little, drawing strength from his warm solid frame. It was nice to have someone close, though she didn’t analyse it too deeply. She and Nick had spent so much time together that she knew a few people assumed they were a couple, and while that wasn’t technically true, there was definitely a connection. Something she’d be open to exploring if he didn’t live on the far side of a very wide ocean. Up to now Diane had accepted that it would never go any further; she quashed the pangs in her heart at the idea and held herself firm.

But now, they were getting off their plane yet again, to return to Gander for who-knew-how-long. What would happen if they were here for another day? Another few days? Given how quickly their friendship had grown, Diane couldn’t imagine what might be with all those extra hours in each other’s company.

Before she could wonder too much about the details, one of the flight attendants came on over the intercom again.

“Hi, this is Shelley,” she said. “The captain wants me to give you as much information as we have.” She stopped and Diane could hear the rustle of papers. “The rest of the flights have taken off, so it’s just us here now. The shelters are being dismantled, and there are enough rooms at one of the local hotels for us, so we’re going to be staying there until we can get home.” A voice shouted something, and Shelley repeated, “Yes, in real beds.”

A cheer went up, and the atmosphere lightened considerably. “We should be able to get to the checked luggage this time, and the ground crew are working with the mechanical crew here and in London to see if they can fix the problem or if we need parts flown in.” She paused as people groaned. “It’s all complicated by the hurricane, I’m afraid. If it gets too bad incoming flights will have to wait a bit longer. Obviously we all want to get on our way,” her voice wavered, but she went on, “and everyone is doing their best to get us out of here. We should be disembarking in the next ten minutes or so, and we’ll go from there.”

Diane didn’t realise how tense she was until Shelley stopped speaking and she relaxed. “Okay,” she said to herself. She could deal with this. It was kind of the same as before, but with real beds this time. And hopefully their own luggage.

“At least we’ll be in proper rooms this time,” Nick said. “No more cots on the floor.”

“No,” Diane said, trying to get into the spirit of the conversation Nick was trying to have. “No more waiting in line for the bathroom.”

“Or breakfast,” Nick added. He frowned theatrically. “I hope we can still get toutons somewhere.”

“Of course you do,” Diane replied, more affectionately than she’d intended. “I’m sure they’ll be available wherever we end up eating.”

“Room service!” Nick said enthusiastically, and Diane couldn’t help laughing a little. A warm feeling was slowly working through her chest. Nick was working hard to cheer her up, and it was working.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling and hoping he understood. He met her eyes and smiled.

Before he could reply, Shelley came to their row, a clipboard in her hand. “Hi,” she said, crouching down in the aisle. “We’re just trying to figure out the room allocations.” She looked at her list. “Everyone’s sitting in different places, and it’s easier to do this alphabetically.” She frowned at her list then looked up at them. “You two’ll want a double?”

“Ah, no,” Diane said immediately.

“No,” Nick said at the same time.

Diane felt her face flame as she said, “We’re not married.” It came out more forcefully than she’d anticipated, and she was suddenly acutely aware of Nick’s arm around her shoulder – and when had her hand rested on his knee?

Shelley looked mortified. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she blurted. Her face was bright pink, and she stood up, scribbling on her paper in that intense way of someone avoiding looking at a person. “I’ll just put you each down for twin share, will I?”

She scurried away, and Diane swallowed hard. “Well that wasn’t awkward at all,” she said through gritted teeth.

Nick didn’t reply, and the silence was painfully uncomfortable. Finally, a different flight attendant made the announcement – everyone was to take all their belongings and make their way back off the plane. They’d wait in the airport while the school buses returned to take them into town.

Diane was sitting by the window so she waited while Nick stood up, wondering for a moment if he would wait for her or not. Had Shelley’s faux pas shattered their fragile understanding?

“Come on,” Nick’s voice broke through her anxious wonderings. He was standing in the aisle, blocking the people behind as he waited for her. He looked a little pink still, but his eyes were on hers, and his hand was extended to help if she needed it. Relieved, Diane took it, scooting over the seats and stepping into the aisle.

They couldn’t hold hands in the plane – too narrow – but once they stepped onto the tarmac again, Diane took a deep breath and offered hers to Nick again. There was a huge burst of relief when she realised he was already reaching for her, and their smiles met as their fingers tangled. Diane didn’t say anything, but privately she reflected on how comfortable she and Nick had grown over these few days. From the outside, it might well appear that they were married. They were certainly more tactile than a pair of platonic friends might be.

“Back on the buses,” someone ahead of Diane muttered. “Bloody things.”

“Better than walking,” came a reply. “Stop being such a grump, Donald. They’ve been very good to us here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Donald replied.

“I know,” the woman’s voice came again, and it was softer. “We’ll be there soon. Andrew said he’s doing fine. Asking for you and everything.”

“I just hope we’re not too late. I hope…”

Donald’s hope was lost as Diane and Nick were directed towards a different bus; they were trying to make sure every seat was taken. It was sobering to remember that for some of the people on their flight, a few extra days stuck in Gander might be catastrophic. Not everyone was returning home from holidays, or heading overseas for a work trip.

“Must be hard,” Nick murmured. “Not being able to be there.”

“Yes,” Diane replied. She was acutely aware that her son was safe but not everyone had that reassurance. Impulsively, she squeezed Nick’s hand. “We are lucky.”

Nick stilled for a moment. “We are,” he replied.

By the time they arrived at the hotel, the rain had well and truly set in. It was odd to see, after so many days of fine weather. Diane realised she would either need to buy a coat or find something else to do now that it was so wet. The idea was disconcerting. She’d come to associate going for a walk with being in Gander.

“You’re back!” the receptionist came out to greet their bus, and her kindness almost made Diane cry. “Well get you all settled. You’ll be more comfortable here than in your shelter, at least there’s that. Your crew tells me your bags might come off the plane soon, but until then you come and let me know if you need anything and we’ll sort you out.”

She beamed at everyone. “Alright, listen for your names and I’ll start getting you off to your rooms.”

Diane and Nick stood in the crowd, waiting as each pair of names was called. Diane wanted to say something, but she didn’t know where to begin. Instead she held onto Nick’s hand, grateful for the contact to ground her. It took forever, but finally Diane’s name was called along with a woman she didn’t recognise. They accepted their keys, and with a glance and fleeting smile at Nick, Diane started up the stairs. They were on the first floor fairly close to the stairs. It was very quiet, the space clean and somehow more impersonal than the shelter had been.

“Well, this is going to be more comfortable than the shelter,” Diane said with a brightness she did not feel. Proper beds were a luxury, but it was strange – and somewhat unsettling – to know Nick wouldn’t be right beside her when she woke. He’d become quite the comfort, but it was odd to wish he was still sleeping beside her. It had been a long time since she’d wished for company at night.

Lost in the consideration of this new idea, Diane sat absently on the edge of one of the beds.

“Diane!” the voice startled her out of her reverie. She glanced up to see Laura, her roommate, looking at her with irritation.

“Sorry, I was miles away,” she said apologetically.

“I’m going out,” Laura said. “I met someone while we were here, and if we’re going to be in town, I’m gonna go stay with him.”

“Right,” Diane said absently. She was still processing the ‘Nick will be out of reach’ idea.

“I’ll leave his name at the front desk,” Laura said. “If they need to get hold of me.”

“Okay,” Diane replied. She watched Laura turn and leave, and in a moment, she was alone for almost the first time since she’d arrived in Canada. The room was quiet and she pressed her hands into the mattress below. The deep pressure helped ground her and she probed at the uncomfortable sensation in her stomach.

She missed Nick. Missed him more than she should, if they were friends; the idea was tenacious, and she reluctantly accepted what her heart had known for days. She wanted her friendship with Nick to develop into something more. Wanted him to be close while she slept.

The problem now, of course, was that he’d been allocated a different room and she had no idea where he was. For a moment she considered calling the front desk and asking, but it felt vaguely inappropriate. She and Nick had spent so much time together, and she knew he’d sought her out as she’d sought out him, but still…

She sighed. There was a restlessness to her now, and she couldn’t stay here on her own anymore. She’d always been content with her own company, but after five days here in Gander being surrounded by people so completely it felt odd to sit alone. The weather had well and truly turned, the rain falling steadily against her window and making the idea of another walk unappealing. Casting around for something to do, Diane remembered the bar downstairs. It was hardly the usual thing, but nothing about this trip was usual. She still felt that dissociation from the first day. Something had shifted inside her and she still wasn’t entirely sure who she was.

Out of habit, she took her bag to the bathroom and checked her makeup, brushing her hair for good measure. Her clothes were her own, at least; laundered by someone in town while she stayed in the shelter. The pilot had assured everyone she’d try to have their luggage unloaded as soon as possible, but Diane wasn’t holding her breath. Oddly the time they’d already spent in Gander made her feel like it wouldn’t matter too much if her luggage remained on the plane. The community here had rallied around them since they had arrived, and Diane knew if their bags were stuck on the plane, they would be helped again.

“Oh well,” she said to herself, checking her hair one last time, “at least there’s that.”

With a smile that didn’t look as brave as she’d hoped, Diane took her purse and room key and locked the door. Another moment, wondering if she was doing the right thing, before a voice stopped her before she could start down the corridor.

“Diane!”

The accent was unmistakable, but it was the relief in Nick’s voice that made Diane’s spine relax, her muscles finally softening. She turned, seeing Nick’s familiar face as he came down the hall.

“Hello, Nick,” she greeted him, feeling a huge smile grow across her face. He looked as pleased as she felt, which buoyed her insecurities somewhat. “What are you up to?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. He frowned a little. “It’s like the strangest déjà vu. Don’t know how long we’ll be here, but this time we’re here instead of on the plane.”

“And thank God for that,” Diane said fervently. She smiled at Nick, her stomach fluttering when he smiled back. “I was going to head downstairs and see if they know anything yet.” Her stomach turned over again as she added, “You could come if you want?”

“Thank you,” Nick said. “I’m at quite a loss, I’m afraid.”

“I know,” Diane said as they walked down the stairs. “Feels like we’re back to the start again.” Except that I know you, she added to herself. And that made all the difference in the world

“Yes,” Nick replied.

They spied the captain of their plane at reception and approached her.

“Well what am I meant to do, Thomas?” she was saying, frustration evident in the clipped tone of voice. She gripped the phone tight. “We don’t exactly have an excess of parts here. Or planes for that matter. Hurricane Erin’s bearing down anyway, it could be a week before another plane can get in here!”

Diane’s heart sank as she overheard the captain’s comments. She glanced up at Nick, seeing the same dismay in his face. The smile she hoped would be reassuring turned out wobblier than she planned, and to her surprise, Nick slipped his hand into hers. He was comforting her again, she thought. Did she look so upset?

It was less the amount of time they’d be here and more the uncertainty she was finding difficult to cope with. Remaining here for a known number of days would be…not terrible. In her mind, she and Nick would spend the days walking and talking, sharing meals and bad jokes, sitting together quietly as they took in the incredible scenery. The rain negated some of those plans, but it was still remarkably appealing now she’d accepted that she’d fallen for Nick. At some point they’d have to say goodbye, and having that moment potentially hanging over her head was torturous.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Captain Bass said. She’d finished her conversation and hung up the phone, turning to see them standing behind her. “I know this is hard to hear, but the mechanical crew here aren’t as familiar with the engines on our aircraft, and even if they can identify the damaged parts and clean out the engine, they may not have the parts to fix it.” She winced. “We just don’t know how long we’re going to be here.”

“Again,” Diane said resignedly.

“I’m afraid so,” Captain Bass said.

“Don’t you worry your heads about a thing,” the woman at reception interjected. “We’ll take care of you for as long as you need.”

“That’s very kind,” Diane said. She turned back to Captain Bass and asked, “Is there any chance our checked luggage can come off the plane today?”

“Now that we can probably do,” she replied with a tired smile. “I’ve already asked the ground crew to get on it, and hopefully they’ll have answers for us soon. Keep checking with reception, we’ll let them know if there’s anything that changes.”

“Thank you,” Nick said, and she nodded crisply before turning away. He squeezed Diane’s hand. “Well?” he asked. They stepped together over to the window, watching the rain fall steadily outside. “I’m not sure we’re really dressed to walk in this.”

“No,” Diane replied. She sighed. “What I’d really love is a cup of coffee.”

Nick smiled at her. “That sounds like a great idea.”

This time they made their way into the bar. Diane wasn’t surprised to see small groups of other passengers in the large space. She supposed most of the rooms here were occupied by their flight and with the weather having turned, there weren’t all that many options.

A waitress came to see them, waving off their offer to pay for their drinks. “You’ll not pay for anything here,” she told them. “Come and see us in the dining room for your meals, and if you don’t get to your luggage, let us know if you need anything, you hear?”

Diane nodded, and she and Nick found seats at a small table in a corner. “These poor people,” she murmured. “Just when they thought they’d be rid of us, and now here we are.”

“Somehow I don’t think they’ll mind,” Nick said. “Nothing seems to be too much trouble.”

“Well now, that’s true,” Diane allowed.

They sat in silence, looking out on the room together. In time their drinks arrived; the comfortable passing of sugar and milk helped calm the nerves Diane hadn’t realised were raw until they were not. Watching the other passengers, some familiar, some less so, was similar enough to the hours they’d spent looking out over the sea. Diane was more aware of Nick now, his seat directly beside hers, head dipping closer as he murmured some observation or another. A group in the middle of the room were working their way through the list of local beers. Diane thought they might have been the loud group on the plane, given the dissatisfied looks Nick was shooting their way. She and Nick finished their drinks and ordered another; Diane switched to decaf which made her wrinkle her nose.

“It’s not the same,” she told Nick, who was watching her, amusement all over his face. “But I’ll be up all night if I have another.”

“I know,” Nick said, his voice warm and lacking judgement. “You don’t have to drink it, though.”

“I know,” Diane said, mimicking his intonation. She smiled at him, took a sip of her drink and deliberately made a face at him. He raised his eyebrows at her, amusement and what she hoped was affection pouring out of him.

It was lovely, and Diane made a conscious effort not to think about when it might end. Just enjoy it, she told herself.

The next hour passed quickly. People came and went, and Nick kept up enough conversation to stop them falling into an awkward silence. Diane felt like she could sit there all day, warm and cosy in the corner of the bar, watching the group in the middle grow and get rowdier with each round.

“Hello,” a voice called across the bar. It was the receptionist who had greeted them earlier. “The truck with your luggage has arrived.”

A cheer sounded, led by the group in the centre of the room. Nick had identified them as the group who had initially driven him to the front of the plane as they’d waited on the tarmac on Tuesday. Diane was not surprised. She’d been in half a mind to thank them for their behaviour.

The receptionist explained that the bags had been unloaded into the function room and everyone could come and claim their bags as they headed up to their rooms, whenever that would be. The good news took the joviality to a new level, and after only a few minutes, Diane turned to Nick. She didn’t even need to speak and he knew, nodding and draining his water glass before standing to join her.

It was much quieter in the foyer, and the receptionist smiled as they asked after the function room. “Around the corner,” she said, pointing the way.

“Thank you,” Diane said. She didn’t think Nick saw the wink the receptionist tossed her way, but she was sure it was something to do with them holding hands.

“Woah,” Nick said when they saw the rows and rows of luggage. There were quite a few other people walking slowly up and down, peering at labels or claiming suitcases as they found their property.

“Might as well get started,” Diane said. She pointed to the far end. “I’ll start at that end, you start over there.”

“What colour’s your suitcase?” Nick asked.

“It has a Texas flag on it,” Diane replied, feeling her face colour. “Red and white and blue, with a big white star.”

“Should be easy enough,” Nick replied. “Mine is black, but it does have a nametag.”

“No problem,” Diane replied, unsurprised that Nick’s suitcase would be entirely functional and nondescript. The thought was almost unbearably affectionate, and she gave herself a stern, ‘stop it!’ before starting down the first row of bags.

The first time Nick ‘found’ her suitcase, Diane was astute enough to check the label. It wasn’t hers. Identical, but not hers. By the third time, Nick had learned to check the label himself. When he did find her suitcase, Diane was startled to hear a shout of triumph.

“Found it!” he crowed.

“Wonderful,” she told him, hurrying over to check the label.

“I did check it,” Nick protested. “This is the fifth Texas flag suitcase I’ve found!”

“Of course it is,” Diane told him. “This was a flight to Dallas, after all.”

“Proud Texans?” Nick asked.

“Proud Texans,” Diane said, deliberately exaggerating her accent.

“Well let’s get on and find mine,” Nick said. “I should have bought a Union Jack to match.”

Diane grinned at him. “I can’t see you buying anything like that, Nick.”

They walked slowly up and down the aisles, examining the multitude of black suitcases until finally, Diane found the label.

“Finally,” Nick murmured.

“I’m looking forward to getting changed,” Diane said. “Into my own clothes.”

“I know,” Nick said fervently. He took hold of both suitcases, wheeling them back towards the foyer.

“Did you have plans for dinner?” Nick asked, slowing at the bottom of the stairs.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Diane replied, smiling at him. “Shall we meet back here in half an hour?”

“Certainly,” Nick said. He took both their suitcases to carry up the stairs, and as they made their way, a tipsy voice from below followed them up.

“Good strong husband you’ve got there, love!”

Nick paused and glanced at Diane, suppressing a smile before continuing. She followed his lead, looking down at her feet even as her face flushed again. Was there anyone in Newfoundland who didn’t think they were married?

When they reached the first floor, Nick dropped the suitcases with a grunt.

“Thank you,” Diane said. “You did know there’s a lift, didn’t you?”

Nick looked at her steadily for a moment before breaking into a smile. “I didn’t consider it,” he said.

She shook her head, smiling at him, not entirely certain what this moment meant. They picked up the handles of their suitcases, trundling down the hall until Diane slowed at her door.

“This is me,” she said with a sudden awkwardness. “I’ll meet you downstairs?”

“Of course,” Nick replied.

She found her key, focussing on the door to stop herself watching Nick walk away, unprepared for her own reaction. Before she disappeared inside, she weakened, glancing up the corridor, berating herself even as she did.

The corridor was empty.

He was gone.

Quietly, she closed the door.

In the quiet of her hotel room, she stood, back pressed against the door, suitcase beside her. Her face was turned up, as though denying gravity would stop the tears. Her conversation with Nick had been pleasant enough, as far as things went, and it was oddly more comfortable being in the group of people at the bar. Somehow, though, the whole experience had made her inexplicably sad.

As she found a change of clothes – her own clothes, finally – Diane tried to work out what about it had affected her so much. It was hard to figure; her fingers fixed buttons automatically as her mind worked. Several possibilities wandered in and out as she sorted through her belongings, taking comfort in handling the familiar items. By the time she noticed the time, none of her ideas had really rung true. It was something just out of reach. She wouldn’t be able to rush it, it had to mature in its own time.

The lack of resolution meant she left still a little unsettled and a few minutes late, hurrying down to meet Nick and the bottom of the stairs.

“Sorry,” she said. “Lost track of the time.”

“Not at all,” Nick said. “You look nice.”

“Why, thank you,” Diane replied, feeling her face heat a little at the compliment. “My own clothes, finally.”

“It’s a relief,” Nick agreed. His shirt was different, Diane realised. It brought out the colour of his eyes, but a shyness came over her and she couldn’t tell him.

“Shall we?” Diane asked. Her heart was thumping faster than usual, she knew. It felt far more like a date than any of their other meals, and when Nick offered her his arm, she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow without a thought.

+++

“I can’t believe you ate that,” Diane said, flicking her eyes to the waitress to be sure she was out of earshot. “Cod tongue!”

“How could I say no?” Nick protested. He looked a little green, Diane had to admit. “When they won’t let us pay for our meals and they bring us the local specialty!”

“They brought _you_ the local specialty,” Diane reminded him. “I was wise enough to lie to him.”

“Yes, I did notice that,” Nick said, sipping at his wine. “I can’t believe you told them you’d tried it already!”

“There was no way I was going anywhere near a breaded cod tongue,” she shivered. “Urgh.”

Nick studied her, drinking again from his glass without taking his eyes off her.

“What?” she said. They’d both had a glass of wine, or most of one. It felt like a date, but without the awkward beginning. The gentle undercurrent pulling them together was growing stronger. She could feel her eyes lingering longer on Nick’s face as he considered his answers and wondered if it was her imagination that he was also watching her with more intent.

Carefully, he set his wine glass down. “Do you remember the screech in?” he asked.

Diane frowned. “That night at the Legion?” She screwed up her nose. “There was a lot of beer that night.” Pointing one finger, she said teasingly, “Quite a bit from you, if I remember.”

Nick’s face coloured. “I was buying the beer,” he admitted. “Do you remember the cod?”

“The cod?” she repeated. Something was hovering just below the surface. Did she remember a cod? “Was there…something about kissing a fish? Was it a cod?”

“Yes,” Nick replied. “You volunteered us for the ceremony.”

“That part I remember,” Diane said. “You didn’t want to do it.”

“I’m not really one for public displays,” he began, and Diane didn’t understand why the delicate pink deepened to red.

“You kissed the fish, though,” Diane said. “So you’re a Newfoundlander.” She grinned. “And now you’re eating the local food. Maybe you shouldn’t go back to England after all. They’ll barely recognise you.”

Diane had intended her comment as a joke, but Nick’s face grew pensive. “I don’t think they will,” he said. A moment’s silence, and then he added, “Do you remember kissing the fish?”

Diane frowned. “No. I don’t remember much after the fish arrived, I think.” She looked at Nick. “Did I kiss the fish?”

“No,” Nick said. He took a deep breath, and in the intervening second, Diane wondered what on earth she’d done. “You kissed me instead.”

“I what?” she asked. She _kissed_ him? And she didn’t remember?

Before Nick could answer, their waitress returned, setting a plate of toutons between them. “Here you go,” she said. “I’d heard you were a fan of local cuisine.”

“Thank you,” Diane said automatically.

She bustled away, clearly happy with herself, and the awkward silence hung over them again.

“Forget about it,” Nick said, handing one of the forks to Diane. He tried for a smile, but it reminded Diane of her effort in the bathroom mirror earlier that day. Not as brave as she’d hoped; it was the same on his face now. “I…just thought you should know.” He pushed the plate toward here. “Here, I’ll even share my toutons with you.”

“Thank you,” Diane replied, taking a bite. It was like cardboard, her stomach churning. Had she ruined this thing between them without even realising? While she was drunk, for goodness sake. And yet, Nick had remembered that night, and still comforted her, still sought her out. Still sat here and gently flirted with her across their table.

When he offered her another piece, Diane declined. Her head was swirling, and she excused herself to the bathroom, needing a moment to think. Why would he have told her about the kiss? She didn’t remember the night; he could have not mentioned it. But he was honest, and despite the mortifying position she felt like she was in, she appreciated that he’d told her. Perhaps that’s why everyone thinks we’re a couple, Diane thought. Goodness knew the grapevine here worked fast enough. Now it was up to her to let it go. Nick was obviously able to do so, as he had done in the last day or two.

She couldn’t spoil this.

Pep talk complete, Diane took a deep breath and returned to the table. She smiled at Nick, meeting his eyes in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

“Thanks for sharing,” she said. “I don’t really have much of a sweet tooth.”

He returned her smile, relief in his face at her changed demenour. “Mine is horrendous,” he admitted.

“I’ve noticed,” Diane told him. “How many crullers have you eaten while we’ve been here?”

“Crystal keeps giving them to me!” he protested.

“You know the name of the girl at Tim Horton’s,” Diane pointed out. “Because she gives you crullers.”

“Not only crullers,” he pointed out. “Sometimes a coffee.” His lip was twitching, and Diane’s heart flooded with warmth at the softness in his eyes.

“She thinks your accent’s cute,” Diane told him, sitting back and watching his cheeks turn pink again. “I overheard her talking to Annette, that young school teacher.”

“Well that’s hardly my fault,” Nick said. His eyes sparkled as he tried a local accent. “I could try and talk like a local if you like.”

Diane burst out laughing. “God, Nick, that’s terrible.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he said. “I never did have an ear for languages.”

“They’re speaking English,” Diane said, leaning forward, hoping nobody would overhear them.

“Most of the time,” Nick retorted. “Some of the local sayings are questionable.”

“Oh my God,” Diane hissed, laughter burbling out. “You are going to get us kicked out of here, Nicholas.”

“Nicholas?” Nick protested.

“Yes,” Diane said. “We’ll be kicked out and shunned by the whole town.”

“I’m not sure that’s very likely,” he replied. “I don’t think they’d even know how to shun somebody.”

Diane grinned. “You’re right,” she sighed. “We’d be in someone’s spare room within an hour.”

“‘Here’s the keys, make sure you feed the cat’,” Nick said. “Probably.”

“Probably,” Diane replied.

They sat quietly for a few moments. Diane was drinking in the warm atmosphere between them, grateful it had moved passed the awkwardness from earlier. Her head was still trying to get itself around the fact she’d kissed Nick, but overall she felt content. And a little tired, she had to admit. The idea of sleeping on a real bed was increasingly appealing, warring in her heart with the knowledge that it came at a price.

“Well, I think I’m just about ready to turn in,” Nick said.

“Yes,” Diane agreed. “A proper bed tonight.”

“Without a hundred roommates,” Nick added.

They stood, and the waitress was immediately at their table. “Come down for breakfast whenever you like,” she told them. “Sleep well!”

“Surely they don’t intend to feed us every second we’re here?” Nick murmured. His hand slid into Diane’s as they left, and her heart skipped.

“I think they do,” Diane replied. “It’s how they show love. It’s like that in Texas. Some people’s hospitality just works that way.”

“Remarkable,” Nick murmured.

Climbing the stairs back up to their rooms, Diane was struck by the sudden awkwardness between them. Every other evening, they’d eaten together, talked, and fallen asleep together in their side by side cots. It had been surreal, bizarrely intimate despite all the other people around them. And now, walking along a deserted corridor, footsteps muted by thick carpet…this felt more loaded than any of the times she’d woken in the night and looked for Nick’s sleeping face beside her. To be fair, though, she’d never actually told him that was what helped her get back to sleep.

“Thank you,” Diane said as they slowed and stopped by her door. She felt herself choking up, the distress she’d put aside throughout the evening coming into sharp focus once more as they faced the moment. The warmth and contentment were only memories; she was going into this room to sleep on her own.

Oh.

That’s what it was.

It was the absence of Nick – her projection of his absence, to be more precise. That basic idea she’d figured out, but this deep distress, pulsing quietly inside her, was far more primal than she realised. They’d become a single entity in her mind, and this small separation was somehow more difficult than the eventual return of them to their homes on the opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean. After their meal, quiet conversation, getting past the screech in revelation, it felt wrong to be apart, even for the night. She wondered how she’d sleep.

“I hope you don’t disrupt your roommate,” Nick murmured.

“I don’t have a roommate,” Diane told him. “I mean, I did but she’s staying somewhere else.” The admission felt strangely like an offer of something, but Diane pushed the idea aside. Ridiculous.

Nick didn’t reply, and the silence stretched out between them.

“The silence is still strange,” Diane murmured. “I never used to like having so many people around me. Guess I got used to it.”

“I know what you mean,” Nick replied. “Sleeping in a real bed will be odd.”

Sleeping alone will be strange, Diane thought with an edge of desperation. No other people around. No shuffling, snoring or sighing. Just…quiet.

No Nick.

“Well, goodnight,” Diane said with false bravado. Much as she wanted Nick close, there was no way she was going to invite him into her hotel room.

“Sleep well,” Nick said. There was a beat before he turned to continue up the hall to his room. Diane didn’t watch him go, fumbling with her key instead until it finally turned and she was inside. Again leaning against the door, again uncomfortable, but this time she knew exactly what the problem was, and she couldn’t get it out of her mind.

No Nick. She wanted him close. He had become a constant, through meals and walks and yes, sleeping. There were even two beds, she rationalised to herself. It wasn’t like she was inviting him into her bed.

Too late now.

Autopilot, and she changed into the comfortable sleeping clothes she always packed to travel, brushed her teeth and removed her makeup. The tears tracked silent and steady down her cheeks as she did so and she knew she’d be crying herself to sleep tonight. She couldn’t remember the last time before Gander she’d done that.

Ablutions complete, Diane hesitated, feeling oddly vulnerable in the quiet. Would she ever get used to it? Now that she thought about it, her hand hovering over the light switch, darkness was unfamiliar too. Slowly, she lowered her hand, deciding to leave it on. The warm glow thrown onto the carpet was comforting.

That word…comfort was so important at the moment. She’d coped alright up to this point, grateful she knew her son was okay, still fearful for the rest of the world. Like everyone her emotional state had veered wildly as rumours swirled and were dispelled about them leaving, and then the last day when they actually sat on the plane, only to be taken off again. Twice.

Without Nick, she didn’t know how she’d have managed. For what felt like the hundredth time, she remembered his kind eyes, how his presence was always calm and grounding. God, it was as though he was gone already, she berated herself. He’s in his room, down the hall. Not so far away. Her logical mind might be making sense, but the emotional centre could only remind her of the feel of his arm around her shoulders on the bus, and again on the plane. That was what she wanted. More than that, she admitted to herself, dropping onto the bed again.

She needed him. Needed to know he was close.

God, she was a mess. And, as she briefly considered knocking on his door, a new truth occurred to her.

She didn’t know which room was his. It was possible that the receptionist might tell her; she’d winked at Diane earlier, when she saw them holding hands. But it went against everything she thought she should do.

Nobody knows me here, she reminded herself. Does it really matter what they think of me? Her fingers twitched, eyes settling on the telephone.

_Dial 0 for reception_, the label said.

It would be so easy. Pick up the receiver, a conversation of no more than a minute. Even the idea of it made her blush, and yet Diane felt herself scoot closer. The receiver was cool on her fingers. It shook as she lifted it to her ear, the dial tone flat and insistent as it waited for her. With a deep breath, her heart thumping, Diane pressed zero.

Causation and correlation were not the same thing, of course, but Diane still jumped when a knock sounded crisp and loud through the silence.

“Hello?” The voice through the phone was tinny.

“Oh, yes,” Diane said. “I’m sorry,” and she hung up, eyes locked to the door.

Her heart was still pounding as she stood. She could hear it in her ears. _Nick-Nick-Nick-Nick._

Who else could it be?

There were several options – her roommate for one, or some member of staff, or one of the flight crew. None sparked any interest in comparison.

Pressing one hand to the door, Diane swallowed before she said, “Yes?”

There was a pause before the voice she’d been praying for sounded through the door. “Diane, it’s Nick.”

Diane hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath until it blew out, an almost sob as she fumbled with the deadlock. Finally the door swung open and she saw Nick standing before her. His expression was a little apprehensive, a little apologetic as his eyes searched her face. He didn’t speak, but a hesitant smile crossed his face.

He doesn’t know if he’s done the right thing. Diane realised. He’s waiting for me to do something. Her heart heaved at his bravery and shyness, the mix that had brought him here but stopped him from saying anything.

Oh, Nick.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Diane stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him, tears soaking immediately into his t-shirt. A second of startled motionlessness, and to Diane’s relief, Nick matched her, his arms coming around her back.

She stood there for a long time, though she had no idea if it was one minute or ten. Her mind was blissfully ignorant of such things. It was bathed in Nick, the feel of his arms around her, the smell of an unfamiliar combination – the aftershave she’d noticed earlier and something new. His usual toiletries, perhaps. His breathing, deep and regular, calm as she cried into his shirt.

When she loosened her grip on him, breathing deeply to settle herself, Diane braced for the embarrassment she was sure would come next. She took a step back, feeling Nick’s arms slid apart to allow her space - though he did not let go entirely.

“Hello,” she said quietly.

“Hi,” he replied. She wondered what he would say next, and it was entirely unexpected to hear, “I hope you have your key on you.”

Diane blinked at him, the reason coming to her after a second. “The door closed behind me, didn’t it?”

“It did,” he said apologetically.

Diane couldn’t be upset; a powerful contentment was coursing through her. “Well I guess I’ll just have to go downstairs and get another.” She took a step towards the stairs, then turned to Nick with a half-smile. “If you’re up for some fun, we could go down together. Give the night staff something to talk about.”

Nick’s mouth dropped open at the brazen idea, and Diane wondered if she’d gone too far. After a beat, his mouth closed and he smiled at her. Stepping forward to take her hand, he bent his head and murmured, “They already think we’re married.”

“They did,” Diane corrected. “But we’re in separate rooms.” She looked down at them both. “And now, here we are, in sleeping clothes and no makeup.” She squeezed his hand. “Holding hands and locked out.”

It felt like Nick was searching her face for something. One day she’d have to explain all this, Diane thought. How much her emotional state had changed throughout this last week. With each conversation, action, new experience.

Right now, she was enjoying the newly fledged confidence of knowing Nick had come back. What exactly he was wanting or hoping for, she didn’t know; it almost didn’t matter. He’d returned her hug. That was enough for the moment. Enough for her to take the risk of asking him to come downstairs with her. To mention the misunderstanding they had been living for the last few days. Perhaps begin another conversation about what might happen after they’d left Gander.

But not quite yet.

Right now, they walked hand in hand down the stairs, Diane couldn’t help looking up at Nick every few steps. The eyes that met hers sparkled with mischief, and she found herself smiling every time. He squeezed her hand; she pressed closer for a moment.

It was light and playful and somehow entailed more trust than many of their conversations so far.

“Hi,” the receptionist said as they approached the desk. Diane watched her eyes flicker from their faces to their hands, noting body language and probably the grin on her face in the space of two seconds. The other woman would have noticed her lack of makeup and casual sleeping clothes too. Oh yes, they would be a topic of conversation this evening.

“Hi,” Diane said. “I’ve locked us out of my room.” She leaned on the pronouns, and from the slightly raised eyebrow, the receptionist definitely noticed.

“I can help you with that,” the receptionist said. “Can I have your name and room?”

Diane told her automatically, her heart still racing at this whole charade. What was the point, exactly? Playing pretend with Nick? Or was her subconscious trying to tell him that she was open to this?

Belatedly, she realised Nick was squeezing her hand. She looked up at him, and he nodded at the receptionist, amusement in his face.

“Thank you,” Diane said, taking the key being offered. “I’ll bring the extra key down in the morning.”

“Take your time,” the receptionist replied in a decidedly unprofessional tone of voice.

Diane and Nick turned, and she knew it wasn’t just her walking faster up the stairs. When they made it to the top and she finally dared to look at him, they broke into laughter at the same time.

“That was cruel,” Nick said, leaning against the wall beside her door.

“It was ridiculous,” Diane admitted. “But fun.”

Nick looked at her. His smile faded slowly, and Diane knew her own was gone too; her pulse was pounding in her ears. Should she say something? But what?

“You don’t have a roommate,” Nick said quietly.

“No,” Diane replied. Taking a deep breath, she admitted, “I’d just picked up the phone. To ask reception which was your room.”

Nick’s eyebrows rose. “Did you get through?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “You knocked before I could.”

Another long silence, punctuated only by the pulse pounding strong in her ears.

“You could have followed the snoring,” Nick said. His smile was warm and almost intimate. It sent a thrill through her. “My roommate is one of the drunk guys from the back of the plane.”

“Oooh,” Diane winced. Her heart was beating faster at his admission. Was escaping the snoring his only reason for knocking on her door?

No, she told herself. No more of this. No more second guessing.

“Well,” she said, “I do have a spare bed. If you’d rather a roommate that doesn’t snore.”

“As much,” Nick said.

“What?” Diane said. She looked up from fitting her key in the lock.

“You don’t snore…_as much_,” he said.

“I do not snore,” she said indignantly.

“You do,” he corrected her. “It’s adorable.”

Diane froze, the door half open. Did he just say she was adorable? No more over-analysis, she reminded herself. “Do you actually want to come in?” she said, grinning at him. “Assuming my alleged snoring isn’t as bad as your other roommate.”

“I’ll risk it,” he said, still teasing.

Diane narrowed her eyes at him, then pushed the door open, grateful she was a tidy person.

“Do you have a preference?” Nick asked, looking at the identical beds.

“I’m used to you being on my right,” she told him, the admission feeling vulnerable.

He nodded without comment, crossing to the far bed, pulling back the blankets. The bathroom light was still on; she turned out the main light and concentrated on arranging her own bedding, hyperconscious of Nick so close. It was different, here in the semi-darkness and quiet.

She was different.

Aware of herself, her tendency towards negative talk and doubt.

Remaining in this moment despite her uncertainty. Trying not to analyse Nick too much. Enjoying the moments as they happened.

When she’d finally settled, Diane closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it for a second before releasing it. Trying to release some of the tension she’d been holding at the same time.

“Everything alright?” Nick’s voice came through the quiet, and just the sound made her smile.

“Yes,” Diane replied. She wanted to turn to face him, and where she would have otherwise have stifled the instinct, now she did, rolling onto her side.

Nick’s eyes met hers across the gap. The light from the bathroom lit his face, as much as it lit anything, and his eyes were on her. Her own face would be in shadow, then.

“Good night,” Diane said quietly.

“Good night,” Nick replied.

Diane closed her eyes, willing herself to relax into sleep. She slowed her breathing on purpose, needing to rest. Nick’s breathing was white noise, filling in the otherwise uncomfortable silence. Soon she could feel herself drifting away, a deep contentment radiating through her body.

Just before she dropped into sleep, Diane heard Nick’s voice.

“Sleep well, sweetheart.”

She was too drowsy to reply, but she thought, “I will with you here.”

+++

Nightmares don’t discriminate, and this one was particularly difficult. The details were elusive, but the feeling of helplessness was clear and cold, permeating to her bones. Blinking away tears only helped so much, the dark and quiet still frightening to her confused mind.

Sitting up, Diane fumbled for the light switch, unfamiliar with its exact location. Warm light flooded the room, finally helping her pull out of the dream and back to reality.

Gander.

Hotel.

Nick.

She looked over, half afraid he would be gone, but he was there, still sleeping on the same side of the bed, facing her. He looked peaceful, of course, but as Diane studied his face, his kindness became more evident to her. She remembered how considerate he was, how honest and thoughtful, the way he lingered over answers, wanting to be sure before he spoke.

Why was she still scared of this?

It was the most natural thing in the world to switch out the light and slide out of her bed. Her heart thudded as she stepped around the bed, eyes on Nick as she pulled back the blankets on the far side. He stirred as she slid in; she held her breath as he rolled onto his back. Frozen, Diane stifled a giggle as he let out a tiny snore. She allowed the affection to fill her, this time, no longer worried about whether he felt the same, or if she should be behaving in such a manner.

When it was clear Nick was still sleeping, Diane settled herself on the pillow beside him. Her fingers itched to reach out for him, but she didn’t want to wake him. There would be time enough in the morning, she told herself. And who knew how they would react while they were sleeping. Bodies tended to gravitate, from what she could remember, and she couldn’t pretend that wasn’t an encouraging factor.

Sighing, Diane closed her eyes. Rest, at last.

+++

Diane woke slowly, rising through the fog of sleep. She was in a real bed, that was different. And it was quiet, so quiet. Just her breathing, and the breathing of…was that Nick?

She blinked, realising the bed was soft, which was different, but was not the sensation dominating her awareness. She was curled into someone, their breathing slow and regular beneath her hand. Nick. Tentatively, she flexed her fingers, shifted her weight a little. Something shifted behind her back, and she was gratified to realise Nick’s arm rested around her.

It’s not just me that moved in the night, she thought. Seeking something safe and familiar.

With a contented smile, Diane closed her eyes again, drifting back into sleep.

When she awoke again, something was different. It took a second but she realised the breathing beneath her was not quite as slow, the hand resting across her ribs a little more tense. Her arm had stretched out in the intervening hours, reaching across his waist.

Nick was awake.

Moment of truth, she thought.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. When she’d oriented herself, Diane turned her head, searching for Nick’s eyes, bracing for anything that might indicate he was unhappy.

Please no. Her heart wouldn’t survive it.

“Good morning,” Diane murmured. She shifted a little, rolling more onto her stomach so she could see him more clearly. They were still very close, and his arm moved with her but didn’t pull away.

A good sign.

“Good morning,” he replied. “I don’t remember…” he trailed off. His eyes were watchful again, and she hoped he could see her tentative happiness at the situation they’d found themselves in.

Diane nodded. The middle of the night was a vague memory, but she did remember one thing. “You were too far away,” she said, the admission somehow easier here, like this, in the dim light. They were so close and her senses were full of him, how could she be anything but open?

Nick smiled, and she could feel him relax. Felt his heartbeat speed up, his torso turn into her, fingers flex across her back. Her own heart sped up to match it, and when their smiles matched, nothing felt more natural than reaching up to meet him as he ducked his head to kiss her.

A memory stirred in her, and Diane smiled. “Sweetheart?” she murmured against his mouth.

Nick huffed a small laugh. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not quite,” Diane replied, kissing him again. “Not quite.”

For once, the quiet was perfect.


End file.
